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A three-man surveillance crew.
Classic ABC structure.
The first man – Alpha – was directly behind Ryan, matching the tempo of his movements. The second – Bravo – was several paces behind Alpha, occupying the rearguard position. And the third – Charlie – was just across the street, covering the widest possible angle.
The technique they were using was known as the rabbit and the eye. In this case, Ryan was the rabbit, Alpha was the eye, and the rest of the team were the chasers who followed the eye.
Their formation was smooth, assured, continuously adjusting for variations, no matter how minor.
Collectively, Kendra had picked them right out of the crowd because of the way they were built – broad shoulders that tapered down to slim hips. That telltale physique that only special operators had.
Kendra also noted the way they were dressed. They wore untucked shirts and cargo trousers, along with tactical boots. At first glance, their fashion was casual, but to her practised eyes, it marked them as being dangerous. Loose-fitting clothes with plenty of pockets meant room for weapons and ammunition, and their choice of rugged footwear indicated that they were ready for some serious action.
Who are these guys? And why the hell are they shadowing Ryan?
The pit of Kendra’s stomach burned with the familiar rise of adrenaline, and her skin bristled.
But she forced herself to breathe.
Breathe.
She loosened her steps, relaxed her posture and drifted into the thickest part of the crowd, acquiring cover and concealment.
Kendra swallowed.
Cover and concealment...
She was surprised at how easily she had slipped into that frame of mind. But – damn it – this was a shadow parade worthy of Hitchcock.
Coincidence? Or correlation?
That’s when Kendra remembered Jim Braddock’s words, coming at her like a subliminal message, a gravelly whisper from the past.
Little girl, operators never do anything by chance. Never. And that’s why we study the black arts, don’t we? So that we can trump the odds in favour of precision.
Kendra puffed her cheeks.
Right...
She had to assume that this op was being choreographed according to someone’s script, someone’s timeline.
But whose, though? And what’s the endgame here?
Ahead, Ryan had stopped at an intersection, waiting for the crosswalk signal to turn green. Pedestrians pooled around him, and just behind, Alpha and Bravo held their positions. Charlie provided support from across the street, lingering right at the edge of the kerb, his head swivelling.
Playing it safe, Kendra turned away. She pretended to study a jewellery shop’s display, and she used the window’s reflective surface to check on Ryan.
While she was too far back to make out his face, she could tell that he was anxious. He was constantly shifting his weight from one foot to the other and fidgeting with his briefcase. He didn’t appear to be surveillance conscious. Or, if he was, he wasn’t showing it.
For fuck’s sake, Ryan. What have you gotten yourself into?
Kendra tousled her hair, frustrated.
The crosswalk signal turned green with a chime, and pedestrians from all four corners surged on to the street, zigzagging, and the surveillance crew exploited that very moment to swap roles within the crowd.
Alpha dropped back to Bravo’s position.
Bravo switched up with Charlie.
And Charlie took up point directly behind Ryan.
Smooth. Very smooth.
Breathing through her teeth, Kendra watched Ryan make a beeline for the Farmers department store on the corner of Queen and Victoria.